As I may or may not have mentioned a couple of zillion times, I was not supposed to spend my working life in a shop selling leather furniture to city dwelling academics and novelty aprons to students, there was a time when it was expected that I would do a drama degree and then become a working actress, playwright or something along those lines. When I was doing A Level Drama my teacher was a fromidable midget woman who struck fear into the hearts of many and reduced teenage girls to tears on a regular basis during each big production/exam piece/lesson/minute of the day. She, however, was not too horrible to me. I didn't technically like her too much but I think she liked me because I would quite often end up writing the plays we produced for our exams and doing extra bits like composing music and learning my lines on time. I wasn't doing any of this to please her, I just really loved it. So she fully expected me to go far I think, further at any rate than 10 miles down the road to a gift and home furnishing shop - where the most acting I do is pretending to give a crap every day when talking to customers about whether that lamp will look good in their art deco lounge or about the fact that the mirror they bought last Thursday smashed on Friday and disfigured their gerbil. I am not guessing that she expected more of me, I actually know she expected more because once a month she comes into my shop to buy a card and tells me. The first time it happened I was offended, it went a bit something like this..

Her: (In complete shock at seeing me behind counter of shop on a Saturday, 6 years after leaving school) 'Katy!'
Me: Hello Mrs X
Her: 'Do you work here? (Complete disgust)
Me: 'Yes, yes I do' (hangs head in mock shame)
Her: 'But...(struggling to understand)...you went to university, didn't you?'
Me: 'oh yes'
Her: 'And you finished your degree, did you not?'
Me: 'Yes I did'
Her: 'And now you're working here (in a shop)?!
Me: 'Yes I am. You aren't imagining it. I have a good drama degree from the third best Performing Arts university in the country and now I'm working in a shop - anyhoo, it's been a blast catching up but if you don't mind, I have to serve the next person....' (Mrs X leaves shaking her head in amazement)

Basically, we've had pretty much the same conversation every time she's been in over the past 2 years - except now instead of bewilderment, she looks at me with this sarcastic twinkle in her eye, like we have this great 'in joke' together about how disappointing and crap my life has been and how I haven't fufilled any of my potential by not actually having won an Oscar yet.

Last Saturday morning, almost directly after the whole Kiera Knightly thing, in walks Mrs X for her monthly dollop of self esteeem destruction. 'Still here, Katy?!' she chuckles to me, eyes laughing, eyebrows raised, voice scornful. 'Of course' I say to her, unblinking 'we don't close until 6, it would be irresponsible of me to leave sooner' and walk away. Next week I am going to go back to my old secondary school where she has taught for the past 15 years, walk confidently into the drama department, look amazed to see her and gasp with disgust,

'STILL HERE, MAUREEN?!'

Because, quite frankly, enough is enough. No one should have to be ridiculed on a regular basis by their teachers 9 years after leaving school!! It's just not how life is supposed to go. Anyway, what with all my acting training I should be able to get the tone and pitch spot on so she knows never to darken my (shop) doors again. Wish me luck.